Wifely Duties
by trisanamcgraw
Summary: Kally learns that she will never have Sarai entirely to herself. TQ spoilers, very mild femslash. [Written for Lea for the 2006 Midwinter Fic Exchange.]


**Wifely Duties**

**Words: **1,538

**Author's Notes:** Happy Midwinter, Lea! Sorry for the lateness. Also, since I know very little of Carthaki holidays, I drew inspiration from the Egyptian festivals of Sham El Nessim (occurring after Easter, so between March and April depending on the year) and "feast of the good soul for sexual fertility" (March 20). Also, thanks to Lally for a) setting up the 2006 exchange and b) the title to this piece.

Spoilers for _Trickster's Queen_ insofar as what happens to Sarai.

-- --- --

Sarai absently fiddled with her gold bangle, one of the first trinkets Zaimid had given her when they were courting under Aly's nose in the Isles, and admired how the fire threw the shadows of the nobles onto the palace wall; their sputtering, shimmying doubles were a stark contrast to the subjects themselves, reclining lazily on cushions as slaves offered them the traditional fish and lettuce.

A heavily jeweled hand slipped into hers, and it wasn't until she glanced to her right that Sarai started slightly; Kalasin and Zaimid's hands were both so similarly adorned that she often had trouble distinguishing the Empress' soft fingers from Zaimid's calloused ones.

When Kally's hands were outside of her robes, at least.

Kally kept their hands tucked behind Sarai's skirts and followed the other woman's gaze; to any observer, it would simply appear that the two women, standing outside of the fires' range, were huddled together for warmth.

"In Tortall we have a festival called Beltane," Kally said at last. "Couples hold hands" – she squeezed Sarai's fingers – "and jump over the embers of the fires."

Sarai snickered. "I doubt that any of the counselors would give you the pleasure of seeing them hop around in such an undignified way. Especially with all those robes – they'd go up in flames."

"True," Kally remarked with a bittersweet smile. "But when I celebrated my first of these festivals – in fact, I think we had two the year that I arrived, in order to increase my fertility or something as stupid – I realized that the intent was similar, if a bit more civilized, to Beltane." Her blue eyes, or what Sarai could glimpse of them behind her gold-mesh veil, flicked to the side; when she saw that no one was approaching, she dared a kiss to Sarai's jaw. "So my roundabout point is, you'll find things here that will remind you of home, and you won't be so glum."

Sarai ducked her head with a shy smile, but really she didn't want to look Kally in the eye, for fear that the other woman would see that it wasn't homesickness – far from it, actually – that was making her tense.

She swallowed and looked again at her empress. Disentangling her hand from Kally's, she traced a finger along the burgundy silk at her waist that she knew from experience contained the garment's hidden clasps. _Zaimid told me–_ "Someone told me that this festival is called the 'feast for the good soul,'" she whispered, her eyes flashing playfully. She almost smirked at the flush that appeared beneath Kally's veil. "What do you say we make a feast of our own?"

Kally's voice was equally husky. "I know just the kitchen."

---

While Sarai watched from her perch on the table (Varice would have suffered a heart attack if she had seen her not only wrinkling her skirts, but on top of where food was to be served), Kally held a strip of salted fish between two fingers and wrinkled her pretty Conté nose. The image was so adorable that Sarai couldn't help but laugh. "Don't look so tortured, darling. Come, give it to me."

Kally obligingly allowed her to bite delicately into the fish, but the Empress made a face as her lover did so. "I don't know how you can stand the taste. I don't mind the smell – it reminds me of Pirate's Swoop, actually – but I've never been able to stomach the stuff unless it's smothered in sauces."

Sarai shrugged and slid off the table, licking a morsel from her finger. Kally flung open and closed the doors of the cupboards, more to make noise than to search for food. "I don't really know," Sarai said. "I've just had incredible cravings lately for the strangest foods–"

She winced and bit her tongue, too late. A door slammed shut, but it was followed by silence.

Sarai cursed under her breath. Kally was a healer, for Kyprioth's sake! She didn't know how she had thought that she could hide it.

Love made her dunderheaded.

Kally sputtered quite unprincesslike through a variety of responses, finally deciding on, "How _could_ you?"

Sarai stared at her in disbelief, at a loss for words. Of all of the unpleasant-sounding fragments she had caught, she would never have expected one so accusatory. "Kally, I –"

"I _have_ to lie with Kaddar," the Empress interrupted as if Sarai hadn't opened her mouth, "for an heir, but you don't –"

"Of course I have to, Kalasin," Sarai retorted, grabbing Kally's arm to both steady her and get a word in. "I have my wifely duties too, even if the fate of the kingdom doesn't hang on them."

"You must have been doing your 'wifely duties' quite often if it's happened this quickly," Kally shot back, her voice caught between venom and a whine.

Sarai barked a laugh. "I've been here for nearly a year, Kally! Zaimid expects me to be in his bed more often than anniversaries and holidays. And – I don't refuse him."

Kally twitched out of her grip and flounced over to the cupboard, then to the oven, quite a feat considering the yards of stiff fabric in which she was currently incased. Just as Sarai was admiring how graceful she was, even when she was angry, Kally whipped around and shoved her face close to Sarai's. Her eyes appeared, strangely, as liquid as the ocean, but they were narrowed in anger. "Don't tell me that you've been _trying_ to."

Sarai inhaled and glanced at the enamel carving on the far wall. She chanced a look back to see Kally backing away, her hands trembling as she struggled to replace her veil. But her movements weren't quick enough for Sarai to miss the tear that slithered down her cheek.

"Oh, Kally," she whispered helplessly, reaching out for the slimmer woman. This time Kally didn't wrench away; she rested her head against Sarai's stomach, but then she jerked back as if she had been burned.

Sarai kept a firm grip on Kally's shoulders. "Look at me, Kally. I know that you've never loved Kaddar, and I'm sorry. But I chose to be with Zaimid, and I won't begrudge him the happiness of having a son or daughter." Kally started to cry harder, her shoulders heaving beneath Sarai's hands. "Kally, I can't – I won't apologize for falling in love twice."

Kally shook her head feebly. "It's not – it's not entirely that. I went to see Zaimid today." Sarai stared at her in surprise.

"Seeing as tonight was the fertility rite," Kally supplied, "and I would probably have to do my duties for Kaddar." She couldn't suppress her shudder. "It's been two years, Sarai – two years since I wed Kaddar, and I still haven't been able to produce an heir. I asked Zaimid if there were anything wrong with me – I expected him to make a quip about us still not having outgrown our awkwardness around one another, which is certainly true – and he said that I may not be – be able to –"

Sarai felt her own eyes moisten, but she didn't dare free one hand to wipe them, fearing that Kally would dart away like a spooked horse. "Sweetheart, I'm so sorry," she whispered, pulling Kally into a deeper embrace.

When Kally spoke again, her voice was so muffled by tears and by Sarai's dress that her words were almost incoherent. "I just wanted to spend this gods-damned fertility celebration with someone who I knew wouldn't be thinking at all about babies, or getting pregnant, or –" Anything else she might have said melted into sobs; indeed, her whole body sagged into Sarai's.

"What's going on here?" Varice Kingford strode into the kitchen in a flurry of silk and perfume. A frown creased her smooth forehead at the sight of the two women's tear-streaked faces; she didn't even scold Sarai for sitting on the table.

Kally took advantage of Sarai's surprise to wriggle out of the other woman's grip, straightening her dress with fingers that still shook. She looked up at Varice, but her throat felt too thick to form any words.

Varice clasped her hands together. "Your husband was looking for you," she said, her voice quieter. "Shall I tell him . . . ?"

"Tell him that I'll be in my bedchamber," Kally said, her tone sliding into haughtiness as she fully replaced her veil. "I have to tell him something." Her eyes slid over to Sarai. "I'm sure that you have something to tell yours, too."

"Kal—" Sarai opened her mouth, but the Empress had already swept out of the room. Sarai let her outstretched hand drop into her lap and clenched her fingers into a fist.

"Is everything all right?" Varice asked, replacing the salted fish in the cupboard.

At the sight of the food that Zaimid had told her was supposed to inspire fertility, Sarai barked a laugh. What was that phrase Nuritin had always told her was spiteful? Oh, yes – _rubbing salt in the wound_. "No, but I don't think you or I can do anything about it."

-- --- --


End file.
